


my stars shine darkly over me

by basha



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Getting Together, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Quarantine, Suicidal Thoughts, using fiction to cope with reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:53:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23417029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basha/pseuds/basha
Summary: Neil and Todd pass the quarantine together over the phone.
Relationships: Todd Anderson/Neil Perry
Comments: 15
Kudos: 135





	my stars shine darkly over me

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Would You Lie With Me And Just Forget The World?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23384890) by [ConsiderableColors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsiderableColors/pseuds/ConsiderableColors). 



> I read ConsiderableColors' brilliant (and heartbreaking) Neil and Todd in quarantine fic, and a line got stuck in my head, snowballed into a full idea, and wouldn't go away unless I wrote this. Unlike in that fic, Neil and Todd are not yet together in this, because I love writing them falling in love. The title is from Twelfth Night. 
> 
> There are no explicit mentions of current events and their talk about mental health is pretty brief, but proceed with caution If you're concerned about either.
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s Charlie’s idea to do a group facetime, but Todd’s sure he’s the most excited about it. He’s still pleasantly surprised to be included, even after all of these months of friendship. And, after three long days quarantined at home with just his family, he’s dying to see some friendly faces. 

He watches as his friends’ faces pop up one by one on his computer screen. There’s Charlie, lounging in bed in his pajamas, with all the gravitas of a king. Then Pitts, on the floor of what looks like a living room, an orange cat curled up on his lap. Meeks is sitting in front of a giant bookcase. Knox is in his kitchen with airpods in his ears, so his kid sister can’t eavesdrop. And then there’s Neil. 

Lovely, wonderful Neil. Neil, who’s sitting at his desk in his room. He’s wearing a Welton sweatshirt. There’s a Welton banner behind him. He looks tired, big rings around his eyes that Todd hoped would have disappeared in the last few days. Still, seeing him again is like a cool breeze on a hot summer day, or a warm drink in midwinter. 

“Hey guys,” Neil says amicably. Todd realizes that they can see him as clearly as he can see them, and sets to work smoothing out his hair and making sure there’s nothing weird in the background behind him. 

“Perry!” Charlie yells, loud enough that Knox winces. “You’re four minutes late!”

“At least I’m not the latest!” Neil protests. “Cameron’s not here yet.” Charlie smirks.

“Whoops,” he says devilishly. “Looks like I forgot to add him to the facetime.” The rest of the boys laugh, and then Charlie adds Cameron because of course he does, and then Cameron bitches about it for a while, and then finally they transition into a real conversation. 

“So, how are you all holding up?” Knox asks. The boys take turns swapping stories about what it’s like being stuck at home. Charlie complains about his doting parents; Knox pointedly rants about his little siblings not leaving him the fuck alone. Meeks expresses his worries about his parents, who are both doctors, and Pitts sympathizes.

“What about you, Todd?” Pitts asks, sounding genuinely curious. 

“Yeah, Anderson,” Charlie butts in. “You’ve been awfully quiet.” Todd shrugs. 

“It’s been fine,” he says, wishing their collective attention didn’t still make him nervous. “I’ve been keeping to myself, mostly.” The reality is a little bit sadder, but they don’t need to know that. “How have you been, Neil?” He regrets asking as soon as the words are out of his mouth, and Neil’s minuscule grimace makes him feel worse. 

“Grand,” Neil says, forcing enthusiasm into his voice. “I mean, I miss you guys, but it’s nice to have some time at home.” Todd wonders if the other boys know it’s a lie. He wants to say something, but he doesn’t know what, and luckily Charlie quickly changes the topic to how lucky they are that no teacher but Keating is technologically capable enough to set up virtual classes. 

“Yet,” Meeks says ominously. It’s so normal that Todd feels himself relaxing; he genuinely smiles for the first time in days. His phone buzzes against his leg, and he pulls it out and checks it out of the view of the camera, so as not to appear rude. It’s a text from Neil:  _ ft just u and me l8r? _

Todd looks at the little box on his screen where Neil is, but Neil’s face betrays nothing. He’s laughing at Knox, who’s showing them all of the cookies he burnt in the oven.

“But I’ve been right here!” Knox is protesting, looking down at the little lumps of charcoal.

“Did you even set a timer?” Neil teases. Todd taps out a quick reply:  _ I’d love that. _

_ :),  _ Neil texts back, then:  _ u text like an old man btw. _

They end the call about an hour later, and then Todd’s left alone, waiting to hear from Neil. He hopes Neil knows he expects him to call and isn’t waiting for the other way around. He wonders if it was implied by their earlier conversation or if he should text to confirm; he’s not sure if it would be weird to text or weird not to. He lets himself stew for a few minutes, then steals downstairs to grab a jar of peanut butter and a spoon and retreats back up to his room. He sends Neil a quick text:  _ I’m ready to talk whenever you are!  _

He regrets the exclamation point, but then Neil’s already texting back.  _ i would love that just gotta eat dinner w my parents first wish me luck. _

_ Good luck,  _ Todd texts back.  _ You text like a first grader, by the way.  _

Neil facetimes him forty-five minutes after that, with no text warning. Todd swallows down a mouthful of peanut butter and struggles to hit accept. When he does, he’s met with Neil’s tired but smiling face. He’s changed into a white tee-shirt, and he’s lounging in bed. Todd, also sitting in bed, sits up against his headboard. It feels almost normal; he and Neil in their own beds, talking in the semi-darkness. 

“Hey, you,” Neil says, softly. 

“Hi,” Todd says. 

“I’ve missed you,” Neil says, like it’s easy. “Everything feels more normal when I see you.” Todd knows what he means. Back at Welton, the two of them are hardly ever separated: they room together, they have all the same classes, they share the same friends. Being without Neil, even ignoring the part where Todd’s hopelessly in love with him, makes him feel like he’s missing a limb or something. It’s even been weird sleeping without him, and Todd’s been struggling to fall asleep the last few nights without the steady sound of Neil’s breathing. He doesn’t want to say that, though, so he switches the topic. 

“How was dinner?” Neil makes a face. Most of the time Todd would drop the subject, but he’s been trapped back with his family after months of being the happiest he’s ever been and his nerves are fried and he trusts Neil more than he thought he would ever be able to trust anyone.

“I haven’t talked to my parents since I got home,” he confesses. “Jeff’s got his own place, so we don’t have family dinners. We all just sort of fend for ourselves.”

“Oh, Todd, I’m...that sucks.” Todd shrugs. 

“Better than talking to them,” he admits.

“I know what you mean,” Neil says. “I’m, uh, I’m not actually that happy to be home. I forgot how...much my parents can be.” Todd hums in sympathy, and Neil continues. “They’re just, like, always on me all of the time, and I don’t know how to tell them that I can’t do my schoolwork because I don’t have any yet. So I just lie and say I do and lock myself in my room.”

“Same,” Todd says. “To the locking yourself in your room part.”

“I’m thinking of rearranging all of my furniture, just to have something to do,” Neil says, with a hint of humor, and Todd laughs. He convinces Neil to take him on a virtual tour of his bedroom--so they can “see what we’re working with”--and finds himself shocked at the anonymity of the room. There’s not a single thing in there that betrays that it belongs to Neil, besides the Welton merch and his laptop, which is covered with stickers. It makes Todd kind of uncomfortable, even their room at Welton is covered with posters and post-its with fragments of poetry and a collection of playbills from all the shows Neil has been in (a hobby that his parents heartily disapprove of, for no reason that Todd can discern). 

“Tomorrow we should put up some posters or something,” Todd says, then flushes at the word “we.” It’s Neil’s room. Neil smiles though, and fusses with his fringe. 

“Maybe we should put up some pictures too,” he muses. “I think I have some saved on my computer from the Halloween ‘party’ Charlie made us have.” Todd laughs and tries not to think about how he and Neil went to said party as “peanut butter” and “jelly” and how Charlie had complained that he was being replaced as Neil’s best friend and went as “marshmallow fluff” in protest. He tries not to think of how Neil had looked at him when they were both a bit tipsy, trying to make their way back to their dorm without getting caught. 

The conversation progresses, and it doesn’t stop, not until Todd glances over at his clock and finds that it’s almost 1 AM. 

“We have to go to bed,” he tells Neil. “Or we’ll hate ourselves in the morning.”

“I’ll hate myself anyway,” Neil says. He’s going for a joke but Todd doesn’t laugh, can’t laugh, never does when Neil’s jokes get dark like that. “I’ll see you in Keating’s class tomorrow,” he says after an awkward beat. “And then maybe after that we can facetime to work on the room?” 

“Yeah,” Todd agrees readily. “That sounds perfect.” Neil smiles a true, brilliant smile.

“This was really nice, Todd,” he says. “Makes me feel like we’re at home.” He ends the call, but Todd continues to sit there in the darkness, reeling. He thought he was the only one who had begun to consider their room at Welton “home.” He falls into a fitful sleep.

Keating is just as animated over Zoom as he is in person, though he appears to be going a bit stir crazy. Todd’s friends text in their group chat, cracking jokes about Keating’s inability to sit still and his obvious crush on Lord Byron, and Todd feels suddenly, wonderfully happy. 

“Todd,” Keating says, as the allotted hour draws to a close. “Hang back with me for one moment, will you?” It wouldn’t be a strange request normally, Keating pulls Todd and some of the others aside for one-on-one chats all the time, but the virtual component embarrasses Todd to no end. 

_ Ooh, someone’s in trouble _ , Charlie texts the group chat, just as Keating says “Go on, get out, all of you. Go away now, I’ll see you tomorrow!” The class slowly exits out of the class until it’s just Todd and Keating. “Todd, my boy, how are you doing?” Keating asks. 

“Fine, Mr. Keatning, how are you?” Todd responds, almost automatically. 

“Don’t give me that polite front, Mr. Anderson, tell me truthfully, how are you?”

“I’m alright,” Todd says. “A little lonely. A little anxious.”

“That’s what I feared,” Keating says. “I’m very sorry to hear that, my boy. These are strange times, but we’ll get through them. Might I suggest you channel your emotions into your poetry? Writing can be quite therapeutic.”

“I’m not a poet,” Todd protests.

“Those beautiful poems you showed me about a certain someone certainly suggest otherwise,” Keating replies. “Have you been talking to they-who-shall-not-be-named?”

“Captain!” Todd hears his own voice, high and scandalized. Keating laughs, and so does he. “Thank you for thinking of me,” he says, more seriously. “I’ll send you a copy if I write anything good.”

“Excellent,” Keating says. “Pass on my regards to Mr. Perry.” 

“I will,” Todd says, willing his face not to flush. “Goodbye, Captain.”

He facetimes Neil as soon as he’s done talking to Keating.  Neil is lying on his front in bed, holding the camera out in front of him.

“What did the Captain want?” Neil asks. Todd shrugs.

“Just checking in. He says hi.” Neil rolls over with a little bounce, so he’s on his back, holding the camera above him. Todd doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Neil’s face so up close. 

“Well I’ll tell him I say hi back in class tomorrow. Now, let’s get down to business!” They stay on facetime for another hour. Neil texts him again a few hours later:  _ family movie night on top of family dinner flm and kmn. _

_ Call me tomorrow and let out all of your frustration,  _ Todd offers. Neil sends back a thumbs-up emoji. Then he sends a pink heart. Todd has to put his phone down, because he’s not even sure what to do about that. 

It’s strange, Todd thinks, how easily he falls into a routine over the next week. He’s always been a creature of habit, but he assumed the shock and disturbance of a global pandemic would keep him on edge for a little while. If anything, it’s the opposite. At Welton he never knew quite what to expect, not with friends like his, friends whose idea of a good time is to hunt down the Welton ghosts or sneak out into the woods to read poetry in a cave. Trapped at home, Todd’s days develop a comforting pattern. He goes downstairs three times a day to get supplies, he does the homework they’re eventually assigned and goes to online class, he reads, he writes, and he facetimes daily with Neil and their friends. 

Todd’s favorite part of the routine is when he and Neil talk before they both go to bed. It feels like the most natural thing in the world, and Todd always looks forward to it. Neil seems to enjoy it too. 

“Thank god I have you, Todd,” Neil says, “otherwise my sleep schedule would be so fucked.” 

Still, even despite the comfort of a routine, Todd has his moments. He runs into his mother in the kitchen one morning and then spends an hour crying in his room. Knox sends a video into the group chat of all of them celebrating after Neil’s first performance as Puck with the caption  _ missing y’all _ and Todd’s chest pangs with longing. The assignments start to pile up and he watches his hands shake detachedly as the math problems swim in front of his face. 

Talking to Neil helps; he always seems to know just the right words to say to pull Todd out of his bad moods, even just for a little bit. Neil’s been his emotional protector since they first met, but this is a whole other level of intimacy and interdependence. 

Neil also seems to be struggling. He tells Todd some of the awful things his father says, and Todd’s sure that it’s worse than Neil’s willing to admit. Some times when he facetimes from his bed at night he admits to Todd that he hasn’t gotten out of bed all day except to use the bathroom. His self deprecating jokes become more frequent and less funny. Rooming with Neil means that Todd knows better than most that Neil’s not the superhuman most people think he is, but as Neil whispers secrets to him as the quarantine stretches on, Todd realizes with a jolt how often the Neil they see is just him putting on a show. 

He tries not to think too hard about what it means that Neil picked him to be his confidant. He was probably just the most convenient person or even just the one who happened to be there. 

He hopes he can help Neil half as much as Neil helps him. 

One night during their bedtime facetime, a few weeks into the quarantine, Todd finds Neil in a particularly down mood. He’s not looking into the camera, and Todd sees him wipe at his eyes a few times. He doesn’t want to comment, but then he sees something glistening on Neil’s cheek and he speaks before he thinks. 

“Neil, are you crying?” For some reason that pushes Neil over some sort of edge, and he starts to cry in earnest. Todd’s stomach twists, his heart clenches. He wishes he could touch Neil, hold him, comfort him in some way, but all he can do is stutter at his phone. “Oh, Neil, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m really sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Neil pulls himself together enough to ask. 

“I made you cry,” Todd says. He hasn’t exactly had the easiest day either, and he knows he’s close to crying as well. “You don’t have to call me if you’d rather be alone tonight.” Todd adds awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“Todd, what are you talking about?” Neil asks. “Talking to you is...gah. It’s the best part of my day, Todd. It’s…”

“Mine too,” Todd whispers. He doesn’t know why he’s whispering. 

“I wish I could be on the phone with you all day,” Neil says, with a sad sort of chuckle. Todd’s not usually the one with the big plans in their relationship; usually Neil plays that role and he is content to be the voice of reason. But if everything else is going topsy-turvy, why can’t they?

“Neil,” Todd says. “Why not?”

“What?” Neil looks adorably confused. Todd wants to reach out and touch him. 

“Tomorrow,” he says. “I think we could both use a good day. Why don’t we just stay on the phone the whole time?”

“What about during meals?” This stumps Todd for a moment, and while he reconsiders that aspect he finds himself reconsidering the whole thing.

“I’m sorry,” he finds himself saying again. “This was stupid, just forget it--”

“No!” Neil’s practically shouting. He lowers his voice. “No, Todd, I like your idea, I really do. Look, we can do all day with breaks, alright? Like during meals. And, uh, probably while we’re in the bathroom too.”

“All day with breaks,” Todd agrees. “Call me in the morning when you wake up, okay? First thing.”

“But I don’t want to wake you up--”

“Call me,” Todd insists. Somewhere, miles away, but also as close as the palm of his hand, Neil Perry smiles. 

Todd regrets it first thing in the morning when he’s rudely awakened by his phone ringing loudly next to his ear. He picks it up, groggily.

“Why are you awake at eight in the morning?” he groans.

“This is the air; that is the glorious sun; This pearl she gave me, I do feel't and see't; And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus, Yet 'tis not madness,” Neil monologues dramatically. He sounds happy, and Todd’s heart swells. 

“What the fuck is that?” he asks, yawning. 

“Twelfth Night!” Neil says. “That was gonna be our spring show.” He doesn’t even sound upset. “Ginny and I were gonna play brother and sister for a change.” Todd stifles the totally inappropriate jealousy he feels whenever he thinks about Neil’s favorite co-star, Ginny Danbury.

“You’re in a good mood,” Todd notes.

“I’m excited for today,” Neil says innocently. Todd flushes and is glad they’re not facetiming. 

They hang up for the first time a few minutes later so they can each pee and shower and get dressed for the day, though Todd notices that Neil’s just put his Welton sweater back on. Todd’s jealous, the Welton sweaters are very comfortable, and he can’t find his anywhere. Neil has to hang up again at some point to eat breakfast with his parents, so Todd takes the time to walk downstairs and grab breakfast. His mother has apparently made muffins, so he takes four. 

“Can I tell you something crazy?” Neil asks, the second they’re back on facetime with each other. 

“Always.”

“While I was at breakfast, my dad was getting on me about me being lazy and wasting all my time and all that, and all I was thinking about was that I knew you’d be right there on the phone with me after breakfast and that you don’t think I’m lazy or stupid. And it was like this little forcefield around me, and nothing he said could touch me at all.”

“Neil,” Todd gasps. “That’s...that’s not crazy.” Neil beams. 

They continue to facetime the rest of the day, until it feels like old times, back home at Welton. They stay on with each other while they both work for a couple of hours, though Todd doesn’t tell Neil that he’s writing poetry about him instead of the history paper they’ve been assigned. At some point they add a bunch of their friends, and then their friends leave one by one and it’s just the two of them again, with only a brief break in which Neil and his parents eat lunch. 

Around three, Todd’s finished the last muffin, so he heads back down to the kitchen. He’s still on the phone with Neil. They’ve somehow started talking about Disney princesses, and they’re arguing over their relative badassery as Todd is making himself a PB&J when his father walks into the room.

“Rapunzel would kick Merida’s ass,” Neil argues. 

“Hi Dad,” Todd says. 

“Huh?” Neil says. 

“Hello,” Mr. Anderson says, sounding surprised to see his own son in his house. “How are you holding up?”

“Oh,” Neil says. “Is that...?”

“Fine,” Todd mutters. “I’m making a sandwich.” An awkward pause follows. “Do you want one?”

“Oh, no, that’s alright,” Mr. Anderson says. “I was just coming down to grab a glass of water. You, uh, call us if you need anything. Actually, why don’t you just text, in case I’m in an important call?”

“Will do,” Todd says. He meant to grab another muffin, too, but now he just wants to make a tactical retreat. He grabs the sandwich and runs up the stairs until he’s safely back in his room. “Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck, Neil, I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Neil sounds almost mad. Todd doesn’t want him to be mad. Todd doesn’t want anyone to be mad. 

“Please don’t be mad,” he whispers. 

“Oh God, Todd,” Neil says, sounding slightly panicked. “I’m not mad at you, I promise.” Todd lets out a deep breath.

“Can we facetime again?” he asks, voice small. “I feel better when I can sort of read your body language.” It’s a strange thing to admit, but he knows Neil won’t judge him. Neil proves him right by immediately hanging up the phone and facetime calling him instead. 

“Your parents suck,” Neil says with conviction. “I don’t mean to upset you, and I’ll shut up if you want, but I wanted to tell you at least once.” Todd swallows.

“It’s just hard,” he says. “Wanting them to love you back and knowing they never will.”

“I know,” Neil says, and Todd believes him. 

That night, they don’t have to call each other before bed because they’re already on the phone. For some reason, this makes it easier to just keep talking. Todd is buried under his covers, and with his eyes closed in the dark and the phone pressed against his ear, he can almost believe he’s back in his bed at Welton with Neil just across the room. He tells Neil this, and he hears a soft sniff on the other side of the phone.

“You okay?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Neil says. “Just miss being home.”

They keep talking as the clock ticks past midnight and into the hours of the morning. Todd tells Neil about his anxiety disorder, more forthcoming with him than he’s ever been with anyone except the psychiatrist who prescribes him his meds. Neil, stutteringly, tells Todd he thinks he might be depressed. 

“I just--” Neil sighs deeply, cutting himself off. “I just think about killing myself sometimes, and I know that’s not...a super healthy thing to do.”

“Neil,” Todd gasps, wishing more than ever that he could climb through the phone and see Neil in person. “God, I’m--”

“It’s okay,” Neil says, softly, and Todd wants to demand how it could ever be okay. “I mean, I know it’s not okay, strictly speaking, but I think if I was going to do it I would have done it by now.”

“Good,” Todd says. “I mean, not good, just...just I like having you alive. And so do the rest of the Poets, you know. Even Cameron.” 

“I like being alive when I’m with you,” Neil admits. Todd presses his phone so hard against his ear that it almost hurts. “I like you so much,” Neil says, soft and vulnerable. 

“Neil,” Todd whispers. He’s not sure if him and Neil are on the same page here, but he knows he has to say it back. “I like you too.” Neil smiles and shakes his head.

“Hey, wanna hear more about Twelfth Night?”

Todd doesn’t notice when he slips from awake to asleep. When he wakes up in the morning, at a much more reasonable time, he rolls over to find his phone and sees that he’s still on the call with Neil. 

“Neil,” he says. “Neil!”

“Whatisit?” Neil mumbles. “Todd?”

“Neil,” Todd says, feeling triumphant. “We have been on the phone together for over 24 hours! Sort of.” Neil laughs delightedly, and it’s the best sound Todd has ever heard. 

He facetimes Pitts immediately after he hangs up with Neil that morning, because he suddenly remembers the conversation from last night and is plunged into an internal crisis. And because Pitts is the only person he knows who’s successfully entered into a relationship with their best friend. (He doesn’t call Meeks, because he knows Meeks doesn’t know how it happened either.) 

“Hola,” Pitts says. He’s eating cereal in his kitchen. 

“Gerard, I’m dying,” Todd says.

“Good morning to you too, Todd,” Pitts replies calmly. “What’s wrong?”

“Neil and I fell asleep on the phone last night,” Todd says. “And we may have admitted that we like each other but we also might not have.”

“How do you not know?” Pitts is leaning forward, milk dripping off of his spoon and back down into his bowl.

“It was late and we were both sort of rambling and--and just help me! How did you know?”

“Know?”

“That Steven liked you back?” Pitts smiles, that dopey smile he only ever gets when they’re talking about his boyfriend. 

“I didn’t. Can I include him in this?” 

“Whatever,” Todd groans, feeling helpless. He faceplants on his bed. 

“Hey babe,” a new voice says. “Hi Todd.” 

“Darling,” Pitts says. “Todd’s dying.”

“What’s wrong?” Steven, gratifyingly, sounds concerned. Todd sits up.

“Neil Perry is slowly driving me insane,” Todd says. 

“Start from the beginning,” Steven instructs. Todd does, explaining as best he can everything that’s happened between him and Neil in the last few weeks. Meeks and Pitts react appropriately, cooing at all of the cute bits and laughing when Todd starts to carry on. “I don’t know if we can help you, bro,” Steven says, finally. “Pitts and I just kinda kissed one day, up on the roof of Welton.”

“Who kissed you?” Todd asks, suddenly curious. 

“Me,” both Gerard and Steven say at the same time. 

“Well I can’t kiss Neil,” Todd says. “Cause I can’t even go near him. And obviously I don’t even know if he wants to.”

“He wants to,” they say, and this time their perfect unison is borderline scary.

“But how do you know?” Todd whines. 

“Todd,” Gerard says seriously. “Have you considered just talking to him?”

“Neither of you is any fucking help,” Todd complains. He hangs up from the call, catching just the beginning of a fight between the two over who kissed who first. 

When he facetimes Neil that night, Todd yearns to ask Neil what he meant. But Neil doesn’t say anything about it, so neither does Todd. 

Charlie demands another group facetime call after Keating’s virtual class in which he dramatically read them love poems while sitting in his bathtub with a glass of wine and then made them write their own. 

“Do you think Keating would legally adopt me?” Charlie asks. He’s sat in his own bathtub, which Todd would think was crazy if Neil and Pitts hadn’t also moved to their bathtubs during class. Or maybe they’re just all crazy. 

“He’s insane,” Cameron says. “If they knew he was drinking wine during class--”

“They never will,” Charlie says forcefully. “Or I’ll kill you myself.” Cameron holds up his hands.

“I wasn’t gonna tell them,” he mutters. “I was just saying.”

“That was my favorite class ever,” Knox says, dreamily. “I wrote about Chris, and I think it was my best one yet.”

“I wrote about Ger,” Steven says, at the same time that Pitts says, “I wrote about Meeks.”

“Eww,” Charlie says. “Get out of here with that lovey dovey crap.”

“I wrote about Todd,” Neil says. Everyone goes very very still. Todd’s brain short circuits. 

“Did you just flirt with Todd?” Cameron breaks the silence, sounding disturbed. 

“I have been for months, but thanks for noticing,” Neil says. Todd hangs up. He scrambles to facetime call Neil as quickly as possible. “Oh fuck,” Neil says, answering immediately. “When you left the call I thought you were freaking out.”

“I am freaking out,” Todd informs him. “I’d just like to do it in private.”

“Take your time,” Neil says carefully. 

“Neil,” Todd says. “Neil I like you so so much. Like...like-like. Just to be clear.”

“I like-like you too,” Neil replies, smiling widely. “I have for months.” Todd laughs, not sure this is really happening but not willing to test it. 

“This is so unfair,” he whispers. “I’ve waited so long for this, and now I can’t even touch you or see you in person.”

“It sucks,” Neil agrees. “But I’m right here, Todd. And I’m not going anywhere.” He wipes at his nose with the sleeve of his Welton sweater, and Todd notices a familiar ink stain.

“Hey!” he says. “Is that my sweater?” Neil has the audacity to laugh. 

“Yeah,” he replies. “I had to make sure it was...boyfriend material.” Neil bursts into laughter at his own joke, and Todd can’t help but join him. He presses his palm against his computer screen and feels, for the first time since this all began, that everything is going to be okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at <https://sunshine394.tumblr.com/>!


End file.
